Shackled

Chapter Two

The intricately forged metals were nothing except beautiful chains. Delicate and thin, they weigh themselves heavily upon her body, suffocating the wolf within. It was treacherous what they had done to her, what she continued to do to herself, but it was a necessary evil.

She could always feel the wolf that resided just beneath her skin, could feel the power that coursed through her veins. She could easily out-match each and every one of her pack members, and it was only her expert hold on her restraint that kept everyone safe. The aura that surrounded her was one of death, but above all, one of power. Only the best could stand to be around her, and even they refrained as much as possible.

Her brother Mason was the only one who truly loved her. He would sneak up at night to visit, sometimes even sleeping in her bed, cuddling close. He was the only true human contact she ever got, and it was him that kept her from going crazy. At only ten years old she thought him to be the bravest of the pack, the only one willing to risk getting close to the big bad wolf.

He had never seen her shift though and had grown up not understanding why everyone was so scared. It was for him that she endured pack events and the lingering stares that came with them. For him, and only for him, the little speck of light in her otherwise dark world.

He never came up on run nights though. He would play and run with the pack, shrouded in the love and acceptance that used to be hers. He would share stories with her on the nights he visited, of his friends and their adventures, and her blood would boil. Her patience and control were tested most with Mason, as her beast angered in the face of their jealousy. Her beast still claimed the Alpha title, claimed that Mason was an imposter, so while the jubilant young boy regaled her with stories, she battled against the monster that wanted to hurt him for it.

And yet, she loved him. Could feel it coursing through her veins like the Alpha blood that made her who she was. No one was more precious to her, and she would kill anyone who tried to harm him. Even now, as she heard the thudding footsteps of the pack on its way back, she could pinpoint his wolf's breathing. She was in-tune with him, like a mother wolf would be with her pup.

Closing her eyes, she laid back against the cool sheets of her bed. A crisp grey, they kept to the monotone theme of the room, blacks and greys that sucked all the light out of the space. It was dim and dismal, and it allowed her to tune out the world, to focus in on her senses or ignore them all together. Tonight, she chose to listen. To take in all the laughter and hone in on the waves of joy that came off of the pack in waves.

Wolves were social creatures, they fed off of the emotions of others. So, when the pack was happy, it was almost impossible not to be. She could feel the way the happiness curled around her, trying to push past her solid walls, trying to force its way in. For a fraction of a second, she let it, let the warmth and comfort slide over her like a gentle embrace. It felt familiar, like home, and her body released some of its tension, easing back into the bed. But as she felt a trickle of that warmth make its way towards her heart, she pushed it out.

Gone was the feeling of belonging, leaving her with the hollow feeling that she knew so well. She knew not to get used to the feeling of acceptance. The pack was happy, celebrating, so they hadn't noticed, but she knew they wouldn't like the fact that she was feeding off of the atmosphere they had created. They would call her a leech, taking what wasn't hers, and hurting the pack once more.

She forced herself to shut down. Turned off her sense to the world. No one would come up to the attic, no one would dare, and she knew Mason wouldn't come, to preoccupied with the party beneath her. She prevented herself from caring, wouldn't allow the envy to sneak in and sully her. They were small, petty creatures, and they didn't deserve her. They didn't deserve her control, her restraint. Honestly, they didn't deserve to live.

Slaughter them all.

No. She clenched her fists, the beast was wrong. She wasn't a bad person despite the way they treated her. She was hollow and alone, but she wasn't cruel, and she wasn't a killer, even though they had branded her that the moment she had turned.

She evened out her breathing and calmed the wolf down. It was time she slept, rid herself of the thoughts that tormented her in her waking hours. She pulled the silk sheet up and over her head, cocooning herself in the familiar blankets that embraced her more than her own parents had. She let the darkness beneath her lids bring the comfort of sleep, only she had let herself forget that there was something worse than the echoes of laughter that awaited her when consciousness slipped away.

They were dreams, only they weren't, at least not exactly. They were more like memories, only they weren't hers, they were the wolf's. She could hear the screams of terror, smell the blood that coated her muzzle, and taste the metallic blood in her mouth. She could hear her mother yelling her father's name, but it felt distant. All she could focus on were the wolves that kept coming after her with a fury, trying to pin her down. Her wolf was defending itself, was trying not to get hurt, but inside Eden was screaming. She was watching without control as members of her own pack came at her in her newly shifted form.

She didn't understand why they would do such a thing, why they would hurt her. As the last wolf leapt forwards, she screamed, his teeth digging down deep into her neck. The pain forced her to bolt right up, the scream still lodged in her throat, threatening to make its way out. She forced it down, gripping the sheets in her hands she told herself to breathe, in and out. The dreams came sporadically, she was never quite sure what set them off, but after the run her wolf had been mad, and she could only imagine that had caused it.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she slipped out from beneath the mess of covers on her bed. Throwing a large black t-shirt over her head she left her room. The house was silent, everyone asleep aside from her. Her feet were covered in thick wool socks and she used it to her advantage as she tread lightly down to the kitchen.

The pack house was large and modern, with all the finishings and appliances of a catalogue worthy home. Only to her, it felt cold. There was no life to the harsh angles and solid colours, it felt stiff and unwelcoming. But maybe that was just her. Maybe being unwelcome in your own home made you feel differently about the way it was decorated. Or maybe she just knew nothing about design, all three were plausible.

The kitchen was large, made for cooking enough food to feed an army, the result of living with a bunch of wolves. She grabbed a glass and filled it from the fridge, gulping down the ice-cold liquid with vigor. When she was done, she felt better, could already feel the dream slipping away back into the dark pit that it came from; the dark pit where she put what wasn't worth thinking about. The dreams sat next to soulmates and parents, concepts she had buried five years ago, along with her wolf.

She set the glass on the counter next to the sink. The window in the kitchen held a great view of the moon, the so-called 'goddess' that her kind supposedly treasured. She remembered back when she had prayed to her, begged her for a kind mate and a beautiful wolf with magnificent fur. It felt like years ago. Now she prayed for nothing, her prayers had been answered with silence and a whole lot of pain, and she had given up believing in a being that obviously hadn't believed in her.

Even still, the moon held her in its grip. She guessed that no matter her beliefs she would always feel tied to the luminous planet up in the night sky. It was mysterious and lonely, and she felt like it understood her better than most. Stepping out onto the porch she kept her eyes trained on it. The world felt empty except for the two of them, their souls connected through their solitude.

Her feet sunk into the damp grass at the foot of the stairs. Her legs lead her back into the forest where she had found herself mere hours before. She laid back down, her bare legs rooted into the soft and welcoming forest floor. She hadn't slept properly in weeks, and somehow, she felt well rested beneath the watchful eye of the moon. She felt more welcomed by the grass and the dirt than she did by her thousand-dollar mattress. It was there that she spent the rest of the night, her eyes trained on the glory of the moon until it faded away from sight.

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Here is Chapter Two, hope you enjoyed <3

Anybody have any werewolf book recommendations for me???

-C